


Hawthorne Everdeen

by Occamaestro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Female Harry, Female Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Hunger Games, Hunger Games Tributes, Magic, Misguided Albus Dumbledore, Other, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Time Travel, Tributes, travel to the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occamaestro/pseuds/Occamaestro
Summary: Hawthorne Everdeen had always been strange. Even her appearance was weird- what with her arriving in her older sister's arms after a mere prayer. Hawthorne Everdeen had always been, and would always be strange. And as the ten-year-old boarded up for her appearance in the hunger games, well, it was going to be- for lack of a better word- strange.Fem!Harry. Hogwarts and Magic in the next chapters.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Finch/Foxface, Harry Potter & Rue, Harry potter & primrose everdeen, harry potter & katniss everdeen
Comments: 22
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All errors are my own.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction.
> 
> D MM YYYY   
> 8/11/2020 : Just added some edits and more detail, feel free to re-read as there is extra relevant information now.

Petunia Dursley neé Evans looked at her porch to see a one-year-old baby. She was disgusted. How could her family ever handle the burden of harboring such a freak? She looked down at the small child and shook her head. She had vowed never to be in contact with a freak again, and she wasn't going to break it.  
"I promised never to take in a freak like you," Petunia Dursley told the infant. "So, find another person to haunt."  
She slammed the door and secured the locks. Once she had finished, she slumped down with a sigh.  
Then she thought of what the neighbors would think at the sight of a child on her doorstep, so she quickly unlocked everything and opened to exit again.  
The baby was gone.  
She sighed in relief.

((0))

Hawthorne Everdeen had always been a strange child. Her mother was always talking of her strange appearance, of how she had appeared out of thin air into her older sister Prim's hands.  
Prim would always butt in at that point, telling everyone how she had been wishing for a younger sister with all her might, and how, somehow, her wish had been granted.  
They would then go on to explain every small inexplicable thing. How from her fourth year and up fresh-baked bread would appear on the tables (to the eternal confusion of the baker), to the small bags of money that were refilled when times got dark(the peacemakers were not at all pleased at their differing salaries).  
Hawthorne knew that she had done these things, and on purpose, at that, but she had always enjoyed playing the part of the oblivious youngest child.  
After the stories were finished, Katniss would smile and ruffle both her little sisters' heads. Katniss had become more reserved since their father's death- but her siblings always had a way to cheer her up.  
Their mother was improving from the blow quite a bit better than anyone expected.  
At first, she would lock herself in her room, crying and sobbing. But Hawthorne would always force herself through the barricade and comb her mother's hair as she cried, and soon, she would be back to normal.  
It took two months for her to recover to a point where the breakdowns were not a normal occurrence.  
Hawthorne sometimes wondered if Katniss saw that as a betrayal, moving on from her father that quickly. Both Prim and Hawthorne tried to convince her otherwise- but it seemed Katniss's relationship with her mother was never to be repaired.  
Today was quite a special day, for both Katniss, Prim, and Hawthorne. Today was the reaping, and all of them were to be entered. Hawthorne- of course- was only ten- but due to her unfortunate habit of making up stories that the peacekeepers had viewed as 'rebellious'- even though she insisted the stories of the evil snake-faced man that the citizens had overthrown were just dreams- she had been forced to enter two years early- something that burdened her family to no end.  
Hawthorne chose to make better of it though- fighting Katniss on how much tesserae she could sign up for their family.  
After countless hours of fighting, Katniss gave up and went hunting. Though Hawthorne usually joined her adventures with Gale, she decided to give her sister some space and went to play with Prim.  
That was a distant memory amidst the reaping. And judging by the fear of Katniss, Prim's, and her mother's face, it seemed they were having second thoughts about her safety.  
Hawthorne was a bit scared too. Nevertheless, she slipped into her special dress- green to match her eyes- and twirled once for her family to see. Prim and her mother clapped happily, while Katniss gave an approving nod and smile from the corner.  
Hawthorne rushed into her eldest sister's arms. Katniss gave her a quick squeeze and a kiss on top of her messy head.  
"It'll be okay, Hawthorne," she whispered., "I'll protect you,"  
Hawthorne nodded, even though she knew she could protect herself.

((0))

Hawthorne stood, stiff, in the square with Prim by her side. She could hear Prim praying for their safety under her breath.  
"For the love of lady and all I hold dear, let my sisters be safe,"  
Hawthorne hoped her prayer would work.  
Effie Trinket, district twelve's 'executioner' of sorts, rose, her face covered in outrageous makeup.  
"May the odds be ever in your favor!" she chirped, before reaching into the bowl and pulling out a name.  
"Primrose Everdeen."  
Time stopped.  
No-no-no-no-no.  
Hawthorne could not let this happen. She would not lose a sister, and if protecting her was at the cost of her own life- so be it.  
"I volunteer!"  
Everyone stared.  
"NO! I volunteer!" Katniss shrieked, tears streaking down her face, "Hawthorne, no.."  
Effie coughed into her microphone.  
"Well, how delightful, but it seems that she has volunteered first, making her the official first tribute of District Twelve. Come up to the stage, dear."  
The crowd of parents quieted as the small girl walked gracefully to the stage, void of emotion.  
Prim and Katniss were crying., Gale, who Hawthorne had never seen cry, was letting tears slip down his face.  
'Goodbye,' she thought.  
'I'll miss you dearly'

((0))

The anthem ended, and Hawthorne was escorted away. A group of peacekeepers marched beside her, letting her know there was no escape.  
She sat in a room of death and waited for her family to come to say their final goodbye.  
She did not cry. She did not sniffle. She refused to be seen as weak. She was small enough as it was, too small for her age, even though her sisters often shoved extra food down her throat- too weak- too little a threat.  
She was smart enough to know her small stature and seemingly meek attitude could be an advantage. Hawthorne was reminded of Johana Mason who pretended to be weak- pretending to be little- but by the end, was ripping out throats.  
There was a small knock on the door and Prim broke in, sobbing like there was no tomorrow.  
"I'm so sorry!" she wailed, "I-I'm supposed to ta-take care of y-you!"  
Hawthorne brushed her hair slowly, calming her down. The hiccoughs had just stopped when the guards motioned that their time was up.  
"I love you-" Hawthorne whispered, "Forever and always-"  
"Forever and always," Prim whispered back.

((0))

The rest of her visitors came and left. Her Mother cried like Prim, Gale gave a solemn look, and Katniss glared, a mix of anger and grief dominating her face.  
It was obvious to Hawthorne that Katniss was ready to die for Prim, for both of them, when the names had been called.  
Their reactions were not surprising in the least. The only unusual visit was the one from the mayor's daughter, Madge.  
Hawthorne used to play with Madge. Not because she was a good friend, but because she was a strong political ally. Madge always knew when she was lying or not though, which made them closer than most acquaintances.  
Madge did not say anything when she arrived, just tucked a Mockingjay pin into Hawthorne's hand and left.  
Hawthorne understood though, she always understood.

((0))

Hawthorne boarded a train that day. It was her first-ever train ride apart from her dreams that featured a bright scarlet steam engine.  
The ride was nothing like her dreams- it was fast and cold. Not in temperature- but in feel. It did not have the crowds of chattering and genuinely happy children, nor did it have the sweet bars and the fluffy seats. It was just- bare and empty, only filled with enough to make the tributes happy, but not enough to truly bring happiness. She supposed doing that would be unnecessary when 23 of the kids were going to die.   
She sat quietly as the other tribute- a boy by the name of Peeta Melark- stared.  
"Are you going to stop looking at me?" she asked at last. The baker's boy's cheeks tinged pink.  
"You're just so young," he said quietly., "How old are you anyway-?"  
Hawthorne found the question slightly annoying.  
"I'm ten- turning eleven in July."  
The boy looked blank.  
"Getting entered early was a punishment," she said dryly.  
"Oh-"  
"The Capital is disgusting," he said at last, as the notion of a ten-year-old killer sank into his mind.  
"We are all disgusting, in our own ways. We are all killers, even if we hide it," stated Hawthorne simply.  
Peeta looked scared and surprised at that. Hawthorne couldn’t judge, she was a literal child after all.   
The rest of the trip was quiet. Just like Hawthorne wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

The train slowed and a bright light filled the compartment. Peeta flinched, but Hawthorne did not. She watched, her expression neutral, as the older boy rushed to the window, practically drooling at the pretty sights. 

“Just cause it’s pretty on the outside doesn’t mean it is on the inside,” Hawthorne said, her voice the tiniest bit cherry. 

Peeta blushed but regained his stiff posture. It was not a second too late. 

People began to point, jabbing their fingers to the glass. Hawthorne resisted the urge to facepalm- if they were going to star in an annual, brutal, murder T.V show, they should at least have the common courtesy to be looked at like humans, not zoo animals. 

Hawthorne’s face showed a very different story. She smiled and waved, blowing kisses to the children. It took a moment for Peeta to do the same, but she knew they were both thinking the same thing. 

One of them could be rich. 

((0))

The waxing tested Hawthorne’s patience but she managed to get through it without grimacing. The stylists looked at her with wide grins on their faces. 

“What a darling,” one of them cooed, 

“So graceful and cute!” 

Hawthorne smiled, and a halo practically started to glow above her head. 

“I may be small,” she said when talk of the hunger games started, “But i am cunning!” 

Nobody had the heart to disagree. 

Hawthorne knew it was the truth though- even if nobody else did. 

((0))

Soon, the ten-year-old was escorted from the room and in front of the head, A man named Cina. 

District twelve was notorious for their horrid costumes- what with years of coal miner outfits and black dust. Hawthorne knew this year would be different, though. She could see it in his eyes. 

“We will focus on what the coal does-” he told her, and she understood her fate. 

Fire. 

Fire was life, Fire was death, Fire was power. 

And just like that, another part of her plan clicked into place. 

Hawthorne everdeen- the girl on fire. 

((0))

She was quite a bit smaller than Peeta once they stood next to each other. Almost like brother and sister. Almost. 

Hawthorne felt the gap between them. The hole that seemed to scream ‘death’. They couldn’t have that. 

As cina examined his work she punched his side. He looked down. 

“We have to play like siblings-” she told him, “It’ll make them remember us.” 

Judging by the look on Peeta’s face, he didn’t know whether he wanted that or not. 

Remembrance in the hunger games was like a double edged sword. They had to be careful, because with one small mis-step, they could end up stabbing themselves. 

((0))

They walked next to each other, hand in hand. Peeta ruffled her hair and she grinned like a small child. 

The crowd ate it up. 

The two tributes made the best of it, blowing kisses, shaking hands. It disgusted Hawthorne a bit, to see herself being prepared like a lamb for slaughter. A celebrity lamb, but a lamb nonetheless. 

Peeta was acting interesting, at least in Hawthorne’s eyes. His face started to relax. She watched as his back started to slouch. She wanted to scream at him. ‘Don't get comfortable’. But she couldn’t. And just like that, any idea of allying with him was gone. 

((0))

They reached the city circle, where the training center resided, and examined the view. Around them, twelve chariots rested, one for each district. Then the music stopped, and the president walked out, greeting them from his balcony. 

Hawthorne kept a small smile on her face at all times. She was going to play weak, and cute; and she was going to make everyone believe it. 

She was pleased to see, throughout the anthem the big screens rested on the district twelve chariot- their chariot. That was another tidbit of information Hawthorne added to her list. 

New is good. People want new things. 

The two tributes reached the entrance and walked through.

((0))

Hawthorne soon learned the training center was also a sort of dorm for the tributes. She knew she would eat, sleep, and live here for the last of her sane days. 

Hawthorne grimaced at the last part. Then she took a deep steadying breath and made herself a promise. 

‘No matter if I win or die- I will stay sane doing it.’

It might have seemed like a far goal- but when Hawthorne promised something, she always kept it. 

((0))

The ten-year-old was quite amused to see Peeta struggle with Effie. Her capital accent always brought a weird look to his face. It was even more fun to watch the other tribute’s expression as Effie insulted their table manners (though subtly), called them barbarians, and missed the irony of the whole thing. For the first time since the reaping, Hawthorne had the strange urge to laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawthorne meets Haymitch while he's sober, and is intrigued. Also, Peeta might not be as useless as she previously thought.

Hawthorne was intrigued by Haymitch Abernathy. He was an alcoholic, yes, but he was smart. Smart enough to not give away any information about himself on tapes. Or in other words, when sober. So it was good luck for Hawthorne when the man showed up to dinner, drunk to an extent of unfiltered speech. 

When the talk of the sibling play came up, the ten-year-old noted the small spark igniting in his eyes; and when he applauded their act, saying it was ‘just the perfect touch of rebellion’ she examined every part of him. His posture, his expression, his tone. 

Later, she concluded that while her mentor could be trusted to be against the capitol, he would choose to sacrifice her for the greater good. 

((0))

The night was when Hawthorne was defenseless. She hated feeling helpless, being forced to watch as her siblings screamed, cried, and died. She hated it with all her being. Hawthorne thought she understood why Haymitch drank so much now. 

((0))

Hawthorne soon awoke and donned some ‘proper’ (as Effie called it) clothing. She then climbed down to the dining room, scavenging for both information and food. Half an hour later, She found quite a lot of the latter, but not enough of the former for her to deem the time progressive. 

Hawthorne sighed quietly and filled her plate, her hawk-like eyes catching every single detail. Hawthorne flinched when she remembered a time when everything was blurry outside her glasses. By four, however, she had learned to control her ‘strangeness’ and, like magic, her eyes had become good as new overnight. Better than new. 

Hawthorne made sure to eat enough, but not too much. It would give her a disadvantage to get used to rich foods before heading to the arena. 

It is to a pang in her heart when she realized that two days ago she was at home. 

She missed Prim, Katniss, and her mother. It was a naive thing, her love for her family, she knew that, but she just couldn’t help it. She needed to help it though. She couldn’t afford to let it consume her anymore. 

Her love had blinded her from the fact that Katniss's hunting would have led to this anyway, no matter if her sister’s name had been this year or the next. After all, what was the chance of prim’s name, one in hundreds of thousands, coming out of the reaping? Even she had a better chance of getting chosen. 

Her fervor of thoughts was broken as Peeta and Haymitch joined her at the table. 

Hawthorne was slightly annoyed when she realized that Peeta was in something matching her outfit. It was too much alike to be by accident. It was like Cina was trying to pair them together. 

They were making them look like a couple, and, whether romantic (which would be gross, seeing as she was ten.) or not, she didn’t like it one bit. 

((0))

After food, Haymitch started to talk. It was the first time Hawthorne had heard him both sincere and sober. 

“Training,” he said, “shall it be individual or not?” 

Hawthorne thought for a moment. She knew she could hunt and trap adequately, but that was everything she could tell them, even if her Training was individual. Her strangeness had to remain a secret.  
A minute passed, and she turned to Haymitch. 

“I don't see the need for individual training,” she said. 

The man nodded once, keeping a serious face, despite her small stature and high voice. It was as if he had been treated tiny as well. 

“Peeta?” she prompted when the room fell silent. “What do you think?” 

The boy shrugged. 

“I can bake bread, but that’s all, so I don't need anything to stay private.” 

He was honestly modest, yet a gleam of a lie shone in his eyes. 

Perhaps she had underestimated him. Perhaps. 

((0))

Hawthorne’s mind was buzzing with information when she reached her room after breakfast. Peeta had a secret skill, and Haymitch was growing more and more rebellious. Her mind flashed to the brief moment where Haymitch’s face had flashed in disappointment at their modest skill sets. He was expecting more, she realized. Why?

She added another thing to her mental to-do list. 

‘Find out what Haymitch and Cina are hiding.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawthorne trains and allies

The trip downwards told Hawthorne quite a bit about both Peeta and Effie. They didn't speak much, the trip only took one minute, but their bodies were positioned in a way that seemed to speak to Hawthorne.

Peeta stood straight and stiff, deviating from his normal mellow posture. He was scared. His face was down and was tapping his feet. Nervous. But was he nervous because of the elevator (claustrophobia perhaps?) or because of the training activity?

Effie stood tall and straight, a capitol woman to the T. She was an underdog, outcast to the fellows- it seemed. What with her trying to look perfect at every moment in the capitol.

Hawthorne wanted to know more about both Peeta and Effie, but her research was rudely interrupted by the elevator stops, and it's doors opening.

Upon exit, a number twelve was pinned on her back. She wanted to growl at the man who had done it but repressed the urge.

Instead, she examined every inch of the room. It was like a huge gymnasium, but with materials that no child should have their hands on. She grimaced internally and rephrased her previous statement. Materials that any child that was not competing in the hunger games should not have their hands on.

After Peeta joined her side they joined the huge circle. A trainer then started to talk, much to Hawthorne's delight.

Hawthorne loved learning, even from a small child, so she was delighted when the trainer, a woman by the name of Atala, told them to explore different stations and learn the ropes.

Hawthorne immediately glanced to the trapping section, before realizing this was prime time for picking allies as well.

Her eyes flicked past the tributes.

The boy from district one was huge and looked a decent fighter with any material. His weakness, Hawthorne noted, was not physical, it was mental, and showed his expression. Too arrogant to make it out alive.

The girl from the first district was also out of question, her expression too old, she would never ally herself to Hawthorne, that much was clear.

The same could be said for almost all the tributes, though a small girl from eleven, and the foxed-face from five were her top choices.

Her planning phase was over once the whistle was blown, and instead, she decided to trail her primary candidates.

Just as she expected, the girl from 5 was sneaky, cunning, and had a good chance to win. Her fatal flaw seemed to be her trust, what with her choosing what she had at the plant identifying the station. She was a good ally, that much was shown.

The other girl- by the name of Rue, if Hawthorne remembered correctly, was trailing her. It seemed they had a mutual interest in each other. She turned to talk to the girl when Peeta showed up and ruined her chance.

"The girl is following you-" he said, in a somewhat protective voice. Hawthorne did not appreciate the gesture.

She took a deep breath and remained neutral.

"I know," she said, "go to your own station and continue before time runs out."

He looked suspicious for a moment before listening to her suggestion and running off the camouflage section.

Luckily, Rue was still in the same place.

Hawthorne glanced at her and they locked eyes. She entered her thoughts, something it seemed the careers were able to block- much to her dismay- and was able to see quite a bit.

Rue jumping from tree to tree, Rue as she argued with a peacekeeper, defended a younger girl with her hair and eyes, Rue as she pondered allies. Hawthorne's face is seen in Rue's mind. Rue wants to ally with her.

Perfect.

Hawthorne walked over.

"Hello-" she said, as she extended her hand. "Hawthorne Everdeen pleased to meet you." she grinned like a child would, her expression practically dripping naivety. Rue took her hand but didn't smile. Her eyes were wide and curious, though they betrayed nothing. They shook and stayed silent, almost engaged in a staring contest.

"So-" said Rue, breaking eye contact, "Is there anything you want?"

"I want to be your Ally," Hawthorne said, her tact changing from cute to serious.

She looked curious. "I didn't think anyone would like to be my ally," Rue said at last.

"I do,"

"Deal,"

They shook on it.

((0))

"So," Rue asked, as they tied knots side by side, "Any ideas for other allies?"

Hawthorne nodded, "girl from district five, the others are too proud to join us."

The brown-skinned girl glanced at the said girl. "It seems your going for sneaky and cunning,"

Hawthorne grinned.

"So I am."

((0))

By the end of the first day of training, Hawthorne was exhausted. Drenched in sweat and information alike. Effie's face contorted when she came close and Hawthorne made a metal note to shower.

After a quick bath, she headed to dinner.

"Any Allies I need to set up?" Haymitch asked as he shoved some stew into his mouth.

Peeta frowned and shook his head, something that confused Hawthorne.

He was making himself vulnerable by staying alone.

"I have one ally already and one I'd like to set up," Hawthorne told her mentor. Effie looked delighted at the words.

Haymitch cocked an eyebrow. "Really," he asked, "who?"

"The girl from eleven and the girl from five,"

"I'll put in requests for an alliance,"

"Good,"

((0))

The next few days of training were successful, at least to Hawthorne. To her glee, she managed the pending alliances with rue and fox-face, who turned out to be called Finch and gained much knowledge in survival. By the end of the training, she was confident she could survive for at least a few days.

Unless of course, the Capitol decided to do something similar to one of the previous years, where every plant, animal, and water source was poisoned.

Hawthorne hoped that was not the case.

Every day like clockwork the three girls sat for lunch, discussing tactics for the games. It seemed Finch had quite a bit of gossip on the careers, and Rue had much experience with the wild.

Today, however, was different. Today was the final day when they earned scores.

Hawthorne looked grim as she entered the gym. The game-makers were eating already, feasting in the roast pig and wine.

For a second she froze, imagining herself falling on her face, failing. 'You will never win' voiced the bullies from long ago, 'you're too weak, you'll never get anywhere'.

Breath, Breath, Breath.

She let out a breath.

And started the plan.

It was one of the most stupid things she had ever done, that much was true. She took a bow and arrow from the station, lined it up, and aimed.

Her fingers felt every inch of the arrow, memorizing it. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing for it to hit the perfect mark, willing for everyone to pay attention, for everyone to watch.

She let go as all the judges' faces swiveled to her, her face neutral and eyes locked on the arrow. It reached the red ring. Victorious. She shot another and another, all while feeling the power imbue into the action.

After four perfect shots, she bowed and looked at the table, where the men and women were open-mouthed.

She grinned a saintly smile.

"Dismissed," one of the men said, and she left the room with a skip in her step.

A score didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things, but sponsors would be looking at them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi! i know i posted this before but I made some plot-changing changes in the end of the chapter. For everyone who has read this before, you should probably skip to the second latermost part and re-read from there.

Hawthorne sat quietly, lapping up her soup. Dinner was different this evening. Like there was a heavy weight placed upon everyone, stopping them from speech. 

Peeta kept trying to look at her though, his eyes asking ‘what did you do?’. Hawthorne ignored him. She just kept on eating, dipping the bread and munching on it. 

“So-” Haymitch asked, his face impassive. (‘reflex’ Hawthorne thought mentally, ‘he’s been through this too many times’) 

He gestured at Peeta with a breadstick.

“How badly did you do?” 

“Not much-” the boy-tribute shrugged, “They didn’t pay a lick of attention to me when I came in. Most were drunk by then, you know. I just threw some things around and painted a bit before I was dismissed.”

Effie’s brow crinkled. 

“That wasn’t very professional of them-” She tutted. 

“And you?” Hawymitch asked, turning his gaze to Hawthorne, obviously not in the mood for one of Effie’s lectures. His eyes looked expectant. 

‘why?’

Hawthorne acted nonchalant as she continued to eat. 

“I just shot some arrows, not really my thing to be honest, but i think it went well.” 

Disappointment flashed in his eyes again. 

‘UGH! Why!’ she wanted to scream.

Before he looked down, Hawthorne glared at him, which pushed her into the realms of his mind. It took only a few seconds for Haymitch to push her out, but it was enough. 

‘How was district 13 even alive after being underground for so long, and, more importantly, who the hell decided to give NUKES to a poor district!?’

Sometimes the stupidity of the Capitol was beyond her. 

((0))

After dinner, Hawthorne and Peeta were escorted into the sitting room to get their scores. 

Peeta looked nervous, his fingernails perched close to his mouth as if trying to avoid falling back into the bad habit of biting his nails. 

Hawthorne just sat straight, her hands in her hand, fingers entwined. She couldn’t care less about the scores now. Not with the information she had just gained. 

District 13 was alive. They seemed like commanding assholes if haymitch’s view was accurate. 

But something fell short when Hawthorne rewatched the cache of memories. 

No matter how much she studied the information Haymitch had ‘loaned’ her, she just couldn’t figure out a motive. 

Was it money, was it health, was it food? It certainly wasn’t justice, if the memories indicated much. 

The blare of the capitol anthem jolted her out of her thoughts. They went through the normal beginnings, with a brief weather report and outline of District 13’s un-liveability. (which Hawthorne now knew was bullshit) 

After the newscaster signed off the names flashed and the first tribute was given a score. They started at district 1 and continued downwards, like they did every year. 

Hawthorne wasn’t surprised at all at Finch’s 7 and Rue’s 8. They deserved more, yes, but both were smart enough to realize they needed to stay off the radar to have a chance.  
After what seemed like forever, the TV reached district 12. 

Hawthorne Everdeen: 11

Peeta Melark: 8

Effie gave a squeal of delight and Haymitch looked thoughtful.  
Peeta just gazed hurtfully at her.  
Hawthorne didn't know why.  
After all, he had lied too.

((0))

After a quick and awkward congratulations, Hawthorne burrowed herself in her room, the alarms in her head screaming about a spontaneous breakdown. 

Pillows drowned her face, and they rubbed on her skin as she took deep calming breaths to try to keep her crying at bay.

But she was no match for the flow of tears that leaked out of her eyes like a dam finally exploding.

She cried on her pillow until her throat was hoarse and she was at the verge of sleep. But as her eyes flickered closed, all she could think was, 

‘I wish my family was here, i wish i could go home,'

She dreamt of high pitched laughter and green throughout the night. 

((0))

The next morning Hawthorne was woken up by a frustratingly upbeat Effie. 

“It's a big, big, big day!” Effie said cheerfully, as she tried to wake her up.

It didn't work. 

Hawthorne just smiled and rubbed her eyes before burrowing her head back into her pillow. 

She got a grand total of 5 minutes of extra sleep before the door banged closed with a small ‘humph’ and she was left to come down for breakfast herself. 

She sighed sleepily and went to go take a cold shower. She couldn’t risk being delirious on such an important day. 

As the cold water poured down, her mind started to wander to the previous evening. District 13, The laughter.

She had never heard that laughter before, it had only ever been just green that plagued her nightmares. 

What was curious about the voice was that it sounded like nobody she had ever heard before. It was high pitched and evil like it was something practiced, or newly made. The voice also had an accent to it, something that didn't match up to the brittle, hoarse, or even presidential voices she had before heard. 

As she continued to sort the oddity of the previous night, the timed shower sped to a halt, and Hawthorne got out. 

Now was no time for thinking about nightmares, now was the time to strategize her interview. After all, she only had a few hours left.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! *wink wink*


End file.
